


A Chronological Anthology of Obscure Sorrows

by SinnohRemaker



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I hope you've emotionally prepared yourselves for that, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It starts bad and progressively gets worse, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, This one's pretty grim, spoilers in the tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 17:03:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnohRemaker/pseuds/SinnohRemaker
Summary: There are many sorrows and sadnesses in life that are intangible, and neigh impossible to describe. They are fleeting, melancholic emotions, but these various miseries plague our lives regardless of our ability to quantify them. They are graceless and foul, bitter heartaches that rest on the underside of our tongues on in the underbelly of our blackened, steadily beating hearts.Dr. Flug has no mechanism in which he can communicate these sorrows, he has no method to express himself besides turning to acts of evil and destruction, and whether these acts are targeted at himself or others is always highly circumstantial. He represses and bottles up his emotions, and allows them to fester within himself, until he reaches a breaking point of volatile instability. The empty coffee cups that littered his labs quickly become replaced with empty bottles of alcohol and painkillers, anything to numb the agony. These obscure sorrows are too much for him to bare.





	A Chronological Anthology of Obscure Sorrows

**Author's Note:**

> Kenopsia  
> n. the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that’s usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet—a school hallway in the evening, an unlit office on a weekend, vacant fairgrounds—an emotional afterimage that makes it seem not just empty but hyper-empty, with a total population in the negative, who are so conspicuously absent they glow like neon signs.

The flickering fluorescent lights of the laboratory shone endlessly above Dr. Flug’s head as he busily worked, sketching out notes for an upcoming project. Words bubbled off of his pen with ease, and he found himself overcome with a resigned peacefulness. He wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but he didn’t want to break his intense focus long enough to allow time to retrieve his phone. He looked proudly at the stacks of completed paperwork next to the neatly organized tools and sticky notes, everything it it’s exact place. The lab was quiet, save for the gentle thrumming noises of the countless machines and inventions he’d created for his boss. It was blissful, to say the least, and he would honestly be content staying like this for hours on end. 

He found his hopes dashed instantaneously when he heard skittering inside the vents, a sure sign that Demencia was on her way. He sighed and put his pen down, before slipping a hand under his bag to rub at his aching temples. How long had he been working? He wasn’t lucid enough to know for certain. Demencia dropped down from the steel grate opening in the vents, landing on the scientist’s desk with a thud. 

“Tah Dah! And she sticks the landing!”

Demencia announced, proud that she was able to remain on her feet after such a long fall from the ceiling. Flug was more concerned that she had her filthy shoes all over his precious work, and had already managed to knock several fragile, breakable things onto the floor. 

“D-damnit, Demencia!” 

He snapped, yanking his phone off of the desk before she could crush it. The lizard hybrid simply giggled and leapt across the room onto another desk, which just so happened to contain several experimental acids Flug was working on. 

“Demencia, no!” 

Flug cried, making a halfhearted attempt to stop her, but it was too late. She crashed, ass first into the table, causing it to flip onto its side. Glass vials went flying everywhere, followed by the sounds of chemicals hissing as they ate through the tile floor. Flug crouched down and pressed his hands over his masked face, shielding himself from getting splashed with the burning liquid. The acid burned through the rubber material of the glove on his right hand, searing this skin of his knuckles. He screamed out in pain, inhaling tightly through clenched teeth. The back of his hand was dark red and blistering, the skin blackened by the potency of the acid. It was clearly a severe first degree burn, unless he was able to invent something to heal it, the scarring would never go away. Demencia, meanwhile, was giggling hysterically as Flug nursed his wound, watching from a safe distance on top of the lab’s sink. She’d managed to avoid the broken glass and acid spraying everywhere, and she found the whole situation rather amusing. Flug cradled his hand to his chest, staggering towards the sink where Demencia was crouching and snickering. 

“Demencia, what the hell is w-wrong with you!” 

He snapped, leaning down to pick up a piece of broken glass. Demencia snorted, before swinging her legs over the edge of the sink. 

“Holy fuck, that was priceless! You should have seen you face!” 

Demencia mocked, before returning to her fit of laughter. 

“You idiot! Those chemicals are insanely d-dangerous! You could have destroyed the entire lab!” 

Demencia idly kicked her legs about, pouting slightly at the scolding. 

“It’s not like I blew anything up. Besides, most of your lab is still in tact. For now.” 

Flug’s injured hand gave a painful throb, eliciting a whimper from Flug. Demencia flashed him a smug grin, before proceeding to further antagonize him. 

“Quit being such a wimp. I’m sure you can walk it off.” 

Flug felt his anger spike at her dismissive comment. 

“W-walk it off? It’s a first degree burn! My hand is g-going to be scarred for the rest of my life!”

Demencia simply shrugged, before yawning and stretching. Flug was sickened by her insolence. He grabbed one of the shard of broken glass he’d collected and pointed it at her, his arm shaking despite him trying to come across as menacing. 

“You think you can just come in here and disrupt my work? I’ll k-kill you! That was weeks worth of m-mixing chemicals, ruined b-by your stupidity! Not to m-mention the damage you’ve done to my notes! I’ll make sure you end up j-just like my test subjects when I’m done with you!”

Demencia feigned a shriek of terror, then scrambled to her feet just in the nick of time as Flug lunged at her. She cackled as Flug gave chase, easily dodging his clumsily aimed swipes. 

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that!” 

She teased, before latching herself onto a wall. She climbed back towards the vents, knocking down blueprints and prototypes as she made her way along. Flug gave an unbridled screech of rage and hurled the fragment of glass at her, which sliced her cheek open. She gasped at the pain, then snarled aggressively, turning to face Flug with teeth bared. Flug gave an exhausted huff, preparing himself to clean up the damage she’d done to the lab and get back to work. He didn’t anticipate her leaping on top of him, knocking the wind out of him and pinning him to the floor. 

“H-hey-“ 

He shouted, before being cut off by Demencia socking him in the jaw. She held his wrists above his head as he struggled and squirmed, easily overpowering the scrawny scientist. She slammed her knee into his gut, reveling in the labored wheeze that he gave. She shifted her body enough to be able to kick him in the ribs, lifting herself up and standing over him in order to attack him further. She kicked him repeatedly, watching as his will to fight back was stifled and he began to simply curl into a fetal position for self defense purposes. A nonsensical noise spilled from his lips as she pressed the sole of her shoe against his throat, getting ready to stomp down. Flug tried to call for help, but it came out as a hoarse cry. 

“St-stop!”

He yelped, his tone half demanding, half begging. His desperation was clearly showing through his facade. The door swung open, causing them both to flinch. An enormous blue bear waddled hurriedly into the room, cautiously approaching Flug and Demencia. 

“5.0.5!”

Flug rasped, the relief in his voice obvious. The sweet bear must have heard the commotion and had come rushing to help. Demencia made a scoffing noise and stepped down on Flug’s throat with all her weight, thoroughly enjoying the man’s choked scream. She continued to apply pressure, completely cutting off Flug’s air supply. Flug clawed at Demencia’s leg in a terrified frenzy, trying to free himself from her clutches. He didn’t doubt that she would hesitate to kill him in her current emotional state, and he wanted to get himself as far away as possible. The bear tried to pry her away, giving Flug a moment of respite, only to launched away by a roundhouse kick by Demencia. 

“Get your paws off me, bear!” 

She spat, hands balling into tight fists. The energetic young woman had more than enough strength to go around due to her superpowers, and the extensive martial arts training she’d been through only served to help her case. The only person in the manor who exceeded her in strength was Black Hat, but their demonic boss preferred not to involve himself in their ‘petty disputes.’ 

Flug clutched his throat with his left hand, coughing and hacking as he tried to resume normal airflow to his lungs. Demencia came back at him, kicking him in the head and flinging him into a wall. Flug groaned and slumped against the cool metal, resigning himself to Demencia’s merciless beating. He glanced behind him to see 5.0.5 cowering in the corner of the room, trembling and shaking. His heart ached with pity for a brief moment, but he found himself distracted by the dizzy sensation of having his head smashed into the wall. Demencia slammed him face first against the hard steel, until it was smeared with red. Flug coughed up a little bit of blood, before crawling towards a corner and retching. 

“Oh Go-God...Hrrk... It h-hurts...” 

He whined, feeling his numerous bruises and lacerations swell with pain. Demencia turned around with a swish of her ponytail, deciding it was best to leave Flug to stress-puke into a puddle of his own blood. Flug did so, but then rose unsteadily to his feet, grabbing a long metal bar from one of his many obliterated prototypes, and creeping up behind Demencia as she turned to walk out of the door. He swung the bar at her head, knocking her to the ground with more force than he knew himself to be capable of. She collided with the doorframe, crying out in fear as she collapsed onto the floor. Flug felt a spike of guilt, before shaking his head to clear away the thought. She’d brought this onto herself. He reached back to hit her once more, only to feel himself lifted off of the ground by two large, fluffy paws. He began trying to free himself from 5.0.5’s grip, flailing wildly and screaming as loud as he could. 

“N-no! Put me down!! I’ll kill her, I’ll kill her!” 

Demencia backed away from him, horror glittering in her mismatched eyes. 

“G-get away from me!” 

He roared, landing a heavy punch on the poor bear’s shoulder. Demencia began to scurry out the door, ascertaining that it was best to flee with her tail between her legs than continue to mess with the delirious scientist. Flug tried to wrench himself away from 5.0.5 once more, but to no success. 

“You worthless piece of shit! If you ever m-mess up my lab again, I’ll rip your throat out! Do you hear me?!” 

He called out after her, his voice echoing into the hallway. After a few minutes, the blue bear gently set Flug on the floor, then scooted away from him, anticipating an angry response. 

“D-damn it 5.0.5! Why didn’t you do that to h-her when she was thrashing me within an inch of my life?!” 

Flug braced his left hand around his throat, wheezing in painful breaths and coughing up more blood. 5.0.5 carefully tried to pat his creator’s shoulder, but Flug shuddered viciously and shrank away. 

“Don’t t-touch me!”

He reprimanded, restraining himself from reaching out to strike his beloved creation. The bear nodded, his eyes watering with saddened tears as he quickly waddled away. The sound of the creature bursting into tears as he ran away made Flug’s spirit ache, but his muttered apology came far too late. 

“I’m sorry...” 

He whispered, feeling his labored breathing begin to quicken. His stomach was churning and his eyes were already blurry with tears, lungs stinging with every deep inhale. He dragged himself on his hands and knees over to his desk, hunching over and crawling beneath his chair. He gave a cracked, wretched sob and dry heaved onto the tile floor, dark crimson blood spilling from his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten properly, so he was running on complete empty. He also tended to have stress-induced vomiting fits when he was in the midst of a panic attack, but he didn’t have anything in his system to purge. He was stuck with that horrible sickly feeling with no way to relieve it, so he just gagged and wept feverishly. 

He hugged his knees into his chest and began teetering unsteadily, unable to suppress his distraught bawling. He wasn’t sure how long he was entrapped within this hysterical state, but he knew that it must have been a long time, considering that it had grown dark outside by the time he’d come to. 

He’d been snapped back to reality by the clacking of leather dress shoes against tile, proceeded by the steady rhythm of feet tapping impatiently against the floor. 

“Get out from there, Flug. Now.” 

Black Hat’s low, quiet tone of voice was far more scary than any amount of yelling, so Flug emerged from under the desk cautiously, still on his hands and knees. He hung his head in shame as his boss approached him, his entire body quaking violently. 

“Stand. Up.” 

Black Hat ordered, Flug obeyed, rising to his feet with terror hastening his movements. Black Hat grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forcing the petrified doctor to make eye contact. Flug let out a high pitched squeak, shielding his face with his hands and feeling his crying start up all over again. 

“What is all this mess? What the hell happened to your lab?!” 

A scream caught in the back of Flug’s throat, but when he opened his mouth, all he could do was sob. 

“I-I-l’m s-s-so-sorry...”

He mustered, nose crinkling as he started to wail. Black Hat struck him hard against the face, causing him to bite his lip in an attempt to restrain his crying. 

“Answer me!”

Black Hat growled, shaking Flug about like a ragdoll. Flug began to plead as he was hoisted off of the ground, his legs dangling in midair. 

“N-no! No-no-n-no p-please don’t h-hurt me! It w-was D-De-Demencia! I’m s-sorry!” 

Flug howled, more panicked tears springing to his eyes as he writhed aimlessly in Black Hat’s grasp. The demon promptly dropped him to the floor, tossing him aside like he was a piece of garbage to be disposed of. Flug reflexively grabbed on to his boss’s pant leg, burying his concealed face into the fabric and whimpering like an injured dog. 

He was so desperate for any kind of consolation that he sought it from his employer, of all people, despite the fact that he was a being who was incapable of understanding how he was feeling. Just a little bit of decency would have satisfied him. Some slight praise in order to fix his ego for a while, so he could live with himself for the next few weeks and maybe even be able to look at his reflection in the mirror without breaking down and crying. Anything would be enough. He just needed something. 

Unfortunately, Black Hat simply made a disgusted noise and shook Flug off of his leg, causing him to collapse limply onto the floor. 

“Pathetic...”

The demon sneered, watching coldly as his scientist squalled mournfully on the ground. 

“On your feet, Flug.” 

Black Hat ordered, paying no mind to the doctor’s violently deteriorating mental state during his state of absolute breakdown. Flug obediently began to stand regardless, despite his knees knocking together with such an intensity that he was in danger of falling back over. 

“I want the lab to be completely clean and functional again by tomorrow morning. Do you understand?” 

Flug nodded, suddenly feeling incredibly light headed. Black Hat turned to leave the room, and as soon as he was out of sight, Flug dropped into a dead faint upon the floor. 

Within a few moments, he regained consciousness, and he groggily sat up and rubbed his temples beneath the bag. His vision was blurry and swimming, his field of sight flecked with spots and distorted by the bright lights of the laboratory. He came to the disgusting realization that he had been laying in a pool of his own blood and vomit, so he figured he must have been so anxious during that encounter that he’d thrown up again without even realizing it.

He tore off his sweaty, blood soaked bag, and began to run his fingers through his messy brown hair. Quickly, his trembling hands began to yank his hair out at the roots, the sensation of pain preferable to his swarming thoughts.

“Useless f-fucking i-i-id-idiot...”

He muttered, digging his fingernails into his scalp and inhaling shakily. He felt so disgusted with himself. He couldn’t shake his boss’s implications when they had spoke, and now his faults and inadequacies were tormenting him. Guilt was devouring him alive, and he really wanted to hurt himself.

Badly. 

He could feel bile burning in the back of his throat, and he upchucked another mouthful of blood-tinged vomit. His restless hands found their way to his aching neck, and he scratched at the skin until it broke. 

“S-st-stupid... Why d-do I e-even bother?” 

He muttered, hoping that giving a voice to his self loathing thoughts would somehow lessen them. He found himself severely mistaken as he continued to ramble on, hyperventilating and sobbing so hard that his words were barely audible. 

“I’m s-such a w-waste of space, I r-ruin everything. I just d-d-destroy ev-ever-everything I t-touch. I’ll n-never be enough, n-no matter how hard I try... What the hell is w-wrong with m-me? Why am I so s-sick in the h-head?! Why am I l-like this, why?!”

He wept, voice steadily growing in volume as he carried on. Overcome with despair, his hands curled into fists that beat woefully upon his head. Every single strike knocked him dizzy, but he welcomed the pain over his horrible, revolting thoughts. 

He rubbed his hands against his face vigorously, smearing tears and snot everywhere. He let out a raspy, choked sob and screamed as loud as his parched vocal chords would allow. He didn’t know how to quantify the agony he was experiencing in any other way. 

His hands continued to roam about his body, fingernails digging into his skin and finding various ways in which he could hurt himself. It was the only think keeping his mind off of his cognitive self-loathing mantra, and it was honestly preferable. 

He tucked his knees into his chest and began rocking back and forth, muttering to himself and trying to breathe through his sobs. 

Flug waited until his tears were completely dry before he tried to stand up again, dizzied by the head-rush as he clumsily got to his feet. He felt numb and detached, like all of his previously intense emotions had been drained out through all of his crying. 

He supposed feeling nothing was better than feeling pain, so he set to work tidying his lab, sweeping up all of the broken glass and cleaning up any liquids that had spilled. Time passed in a blur, his only metric to measure by being his rapidly increasing physical exhaustion. He was tired and sore, brain on autopilot as he worked on and on. 

By the time his lab was back in order, he’d developed a bit of a migraine, his head aching and throbbing with pain. Flug rummaged through one of his cabinets until he found a bottle of extra strength pain pills. He poured himself a handful and downed them all dry, hoping that they would kick in quickly. 

Flug sat back down to resume working, although the rational part of him was screaming at him to get some rest. He glumly reminded himself that his boss would be furious about all of the time wasted during his breakdown, not to mention the lost progress, so he might as well work overtime. 

Flug continued to fill out his paperwork, although with much less enthusiasm than the last time. The silence of the lab felt eerie rather than comforting, and that sensation compounded the steadily swarming thoughts about how alone he was. He’d successfully driven away everyone he cared about through his outburst, and ensured that he’d have no support during his time of crisis. Loneliness and regret settled deep within his stomach, distracting him from completing the work he was already behind on. 

The lab felt so eerily vacant, and the unusual absence of its usual chaos felt incredibly uncomfortable rather than peaceful. Initially, he’d really wanted to be alone, but now, he just missed the company of everyone else. He didn’t want to be all alone in his lab, all day, every day, for the rest of his life. 

A stray tear dropped down his cheek, but he wiped it away, and solemnly got back to work.


End file.
